Cowboy Heat by Delilah Devlin Read Free Book Online Page B

mouth a shaft of scarlet pleasure made her cry out.
    “Touch me,” Jack commanded.
    And she complied, tracing the sun-bronzed skin of his forearms, down along his chest to where his copper nipples jutted, down farther to where his cock rose from its nest of hair. Not hard yet, but tumescent. She palmed the shaft, ran fingers over the head, pushing his foreskin down and up. His cock twitched, lengthened and hardened.
    Jack moved farther down, and her fingers fell away from his cock as he moved between her legs. A brief pain bloomed as he bit lightly on her inner thigh. Then his face was between her legs, his tongue on her clit, and the world went hazy and faint, and there were stars behind her eyelids as well as in the sky.
    Jack turned, straddling her body so that his cock hung heavy, bumping her lips with mute appeal.
    Mel licked the tip, tasting herself and his own musky scent.
    His tongue flickered on her clit, pushing her up to her peak, and she gave herself over to the sensation, coming hard against his face.
    Eager to repay, she sucked him in, using lips and tongue until her nose rested in his sweat-damp hairs. His balls tightened hard against his body, and then he lifted her and sat her over his hips.
    “You wanted to ride me,” he whispered.
    She raised up on strong thighs, lowered onto his cock, feeling once again the thick slide of him inside her. Strange how he was already familiar, as if he was destined to be her lover. Mel rode him hard, a slide and a slam and a crash of motion, a frenzied coupling that was all too short as he spurted inside her once again.
    She rested her hands on his chest as her breathing slowed to normal. “Are you always like that?”
    He grinned, proud of his prowess. “Only with you. Why did we wait so long to do this?”
    She shrugged. “You won the bet, but I’m doing well out of this.”
    His hand cupped her cheek and the tenderness in his touch made her catch her breath. “It was always about you, Mel. The bet was an excuse. I want you to come back to me after tonight.”
    She couldn’t answer him in words, but covered his hand with her own, rocking into his palm.
    He scooted out from underneath her and rose to his feet, extending a hand. Entwining his fingers with hers, unselfconscious in his nakedness, he led her to the verandah railing. Together they stared out at the soft night.
    “I might not have been as easy on you if I’d won.”
    His rich chuckle stirred her hair. “You’d be hard on me, would you? I think I can handle that.”
    “Don’t be too sure. If I score ten goals next game—”
    He pulled her close. “It’s a bet.”

COMING HOME
    Megan Mitcham
    G ravel crunched under the massive pickup’s tires as it left smooth pavement behind. Barrett’s chest constricted in response. Breathing became hard. Hell, the rebellion his insides pitched was close kin to a panic attack, but cowboys, whole or broke down, didn’t have such weak-kneed reactions. The panorama before him of vast rolling hills, green, cow-sprinkled grass and wide-open sky was home. Six years away hadn’t dimmed its beauty or his affection. Barrett rolled his shoulders and shrugged off the vibe. Nothin’ to get riled about.
    Barrett crested the first hill and knew he had every right to feel screwed up inside. Two sorrel mares, one a good hand taller and three hundred pounds stouter than the other, blocked the gravel driveway. A petite woman with long, strawberry, wind-whipped hair, wearing boots and chaps, sat astride the smaller horse. Her elegant jaw was set in a familiar expression of stubborn rage.
    “Holy fuck!” The words left his mouth in a drawled whisper.
    He halted the pickup and confronted her fierce gaze with his own. The air between them grew thick with tension like an ol’ western draw. Finally, she swirled a finger in the air, signaling him to roll down the window. Being a gentleman, he obliged.
    She planted a delicate hand on her hip. “You didn’t really think you were